Page 49 of Art of Love
I felt an ounce of myself coming back. “You could have sat in my lap.”
“You didn’t offer.” She turned on her heel and gave me a good view of her ass, then looked over her shoulder with a saucy smile. She caught me checking her out. “Are you coming?”
I stood up and joined her.
I guess I was going with her, despite any reasons that told me I shouldn’t.
Chapter 13
Jia
***
The minute I’d watchedHunter brush the tops of the scones with a fluffy beaten egg before placing the tray in the oven, I knew they would taste amazing.
They did. They tasted like heaven, and I could imagine myself sitting on the bank of the river in the English countryside getting lost in the lush green landscape.
As to how I came to be making scones last night and finding myself thinking about the English countryside, I couldn’t remember, but it started with me thinking about him.
I’d grabbed a magazine I saw in the supermarket that was doing a feature on British foods. Scones took my interest because they reminded me of the little buns Grams used to make. I then went online and checked out some images. I made up a batch, which absolutely tasted like rocks. My first thought was to ask the only English person I knew how to make them properly, even if I was going to use it as a clever ruse to talk to him.
Talk to the guy I’d met under strange circumstances, and the biggest coincidence ever. I thought about him all night. He’d played on my mind with his kiss and the passion behind it.
He’d played on my mind right from Thursday. Well before Thursday, but more so from then because that was the first real kiss we’d shared.
Anything prior to that had been under the influence of far too much alcohol.
“The jam and cream are a must.” Hunter smiled, pushing the little pots of jam and clotted cream on the kitchen counter toward me.
He went out specially to get those. The jam/jelly tasted divine, and I’d never had cream like that before. He’d said he got them from a café run by an English woman who made it all herself.
I was getting the real deal here, and it felt good. It was nice to have someone take care of me.
Someone, as Hunter had quite bluntly put it earlier, who didn’t want to get in my pants.
Stephan was great, but I knew he was really trying hard to work his magic on me. My younger self would have most assuredly fallen for it, but not now. I didn’t want that kind of relationship with him, and it could have had something to do with the gorgeous Englishman in my kitchen, who’d just made me the most amazing thing ever.
